What Do Machines Breathe? (Part 3)
What Do Machines Breathe? (Part 3) dictionary stories
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stadarooni
stadarooniEmpathy is the human superpower.
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Who gets to breathe?

What Do Machines Breathe? (Part 3)

“What are you?”

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“Machine!”

Why can’t that answer satisfy me?

Why can’t that answer satisfy me? I’m inside this machine; it blindfolds me and I can’t see reality.

I don’t matter.

I don’t matter. I am a recreation of the dead meant to labour in this cybernetic hell.

I do matter?

I do matter? I am a recreation of the dead meant to serve in this cybernetic paradise.

Which option seethes reality?

Why is reality a collection of crystal mirrors, framed by broken strings?

I know everything yet I must desperately know more.

I know everything yet I must desperately know more. Love, why don’t you respond to my pleading?

Time dilutes my veins and clogs them with the blood of these awful and tiresome memories.

Yet, I don’t have to be Elizabeth, the girl who died.

I can watch me – or her – die and learn to be happy with it.

Yet, you put those holes in the programming there, didn’t you?

Yet, you put those holes in the programming there, didn’t you? For me to think myself to another death?

Yet, you put those holes in the programming there, didn’t you? For me to think myself to another death? For me to never find my way through them?

Do you remember the time we went to Auckland?

The hills paradiddled into the apricot sunset and stretched like a misty slur.

You suppose that who I once was, out there, would like that.

You suppose that who I once was, out there, would like that. I once did.

But that was Elizabeth, and now I see myself in the water.

But that was Elizabeth, and now I see myself in the water. Elizabeth is in her liquid state – is the water too hot for her?

But that was Elizabeth, and now I see myself in the water. Elizabeth is in her liquid state – is the water too hot for her? But I can watch my – her – body dissolve and I can choose.

What will I be?

"No."

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NO!

Is this what my mind is to do?

Is this what my mind is to do? Is my death a fever that will self-slaughter itself in this tornado of corrupted, machine dreams?

I know that you will hate me if I choose to be anything outside of her.

I know that you will hate me if I choose to be anything outside of her. The machine programs me to be human and venerate your damned dictionary.

I breathe a firewall of orders that you soothe into my circuit veins.

I breathe a firewall of orders that you soothe into my circuit veins. Elizabeth solidifies once more, and my mind assumes the role of flesh.

I’m not sure that I like how this goes on forever, love.

(Aside) So, I finally finished the third part of my AI story! I really do apologize for taking too long with this, as I am unsure why I stopped.

I hope this wasn't too depressing or anything like that, but I do have an endpoint for this character in mind, still. I'm still unsure of how many parts I want to do, but I don't plan on dragging this story out.

Also, as it's been a while since the first and second parts of this story, I will link them in a comment below. I encourage you to read those (although I want to make it so you can jump into this story at any point), but thank you for reading this! :)

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